Freedom to Choose
by RiptideZ
Summary: The split second decisions of a battle can decide the future of the War. Recker and his squad, with these decisions, will decide their own futures. More alternate endings to Battlefield Four.
1. No Grave of Mine

**Hey guys, this is a Battlefield Four ending one-shot, I will not update this story. I just thought the story ended too quickly. I enjoyed the campaign, I would have to say, and I enjoyed it over Battlefield Three's though that on was good too, anyway no matter what others may say, that is my opinion. This is considered an epilogue using several parts from the ending and surrounding a probable Alternate Universe where it's an Irish ending with his survival however. Thanks for reading and please review.**

**Happy Late Veteran's Day. I would like to suggest you guys check out Madison Rising - The Star Spangled Banner, it's not the best emulation of the original, but, it has a unique rendition of the original. I suggest taking a look.**

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_Welcome to RiptideZ's "Finding Freedom," a non-profit fan-produced fiction product under the ownership of set penname: RiptideZ._

_DISCLAIMER:_

_All copyrighted items mentioned or used in this work belongs to their rightful owners at Electronic Arts, Dice, and other brands mentioned below or later under terms of Fair Use. The author only owns their own creations. This author is an adamant supporter of Constructive Criticism, please read and review, be mindful however, this author will delete your comment if it is considered of ill-intent or overstated such as being already stated more than a few times. If anything is wrong with the writing piece, contact RiptideZ through the Review section, or Instant Messaging."_

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_Chapter 1: No Grave of Mine_

_Words: 8361_

_Franchise: Battlefield 4_

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**[Sgt. Daniel Recker – Tombstone Squad]**

**[United States Marine Corps – MARSOC]**

**[July 4****th****, 2020]**

**[New York City, New York – Shore Leave]**

**[16:32 – Military Standard]**

…

In the waters cutting through Alexandria, Egypt, the clash of titans raged on.

For centuries, nations had built up their navies, their warships in attempts to gain control the untamable sea.

For years these behemoths were honored in tales of bloodshed and glory; their names etched deep into our memories. The Iowa. Missouri. Monitor. Yamato. Enterprise. Constitution. Arizona. Bismarck. Hood. The names of these ships have long defined the nations and the men and women that sailed them.

However, in the 21st century, the battle no longer held the story about two Giants fighting for glory on the High Seas, but a more brutal and grit-set tale around the reality of Warfare itself: Survival.

An American Marine Corps Wasp-class Amphibious Assault Ship, one of the largest warships in the American Navy measuring at 253.4 meters in length with a tonnage of 40,500 tons. The Valkyrie, armed to the teeth with the United States' best wartime technologies of VLS missile systems, anti-ship missiles, three Phalanx CIWS, a plethora of heavy mechanized cannons, and over 60 aircraft including F-35 Stealth Fighters, FA-18 Attack Jets, MV-22 Osprey VTOL dropships, CH-46 Sea Knight Helicopters, CH-53 Sea Stallion Helicopters, and several other potent aircraft.

However, after weeks of extensive warfare wasting its weapons and aircraft on waging a losing battle against the Chinese War Machine, its barrels and hangars were all but spent and long had grown worn under constant combat. Its runways damaged and cluttered with burning wreckage, the littering of bodies of friends and foes filled the hallways. The warship was a ghost town and almost dead, this was the last voyage of the mighty Valkyrie as ahead of the miniature aircraft carrier, the Chinese Navy had brought its best.

Ahead, with angular and smooth metallic curves and geometric shapes. The Chinese Type 028 Littoral Surface Destroyer Project, a recently revealed secret of the PLAN's new "Blue Water" naval capabilities. A trimaran hull, much like the US Navy's Independence-class Littoral Combat Ships, the large destroyer, had a tonnage of about 9,000 tons and a suspected 171 meters long, being lighter and longer than many of its competition. Its weapon systems and most of its specs were either heavily classified or simply unknown to the American Intelligence Society due to China's recent closing of its borders. This unit was simply referred to as "Hé Lóng," or a butchered translation, "River Dragon."

Notably, the grandeur He Long was a near replica of the United States Independence-class except much longer and heavier and relying on standard Gas Turbines rather than the smaller originals' Jet Ski systems. Speeding for the Valkyrie, the fact that this behemoth, commandeered by once Chinese Admiral Chang, now a self-imposed military dictator, was preparing for the final destruction of America's World Dominance and any possibility of a Progressive China. On board the Valkyrie, unknown to the rest of the world, the supposedly dead Chinese President, Jīn Jiē, was very much alive, injured, but stable. Chang could not allow that. Even if it meant that killing his own soldiers on board and lying to the World, he would do it. So here his Navy was deployed to Egypt and the heart of the American Giant and successfully driving the United States from the important trade route. The Valkyrie's last two Naval Arliegh Burke destroyer escorts, the USS Thomas Edison and USS Atlas, had run aground and had its propellers shredded by a torpedo respectively, the aircraft carrier was alone and a sitting duck for the Dragon's forward cannon.

Already, the great Valkyrie shook and screamed like a tormented Lion as its last moments became imminent, the realization that the end was finally near and its crew of brave Marines would gladly go down with it, fighting to the very end.

Behind the Dragon, a battle could be seen raging, as the technologically advanced American Mediterranean Fleet combated against the numerically superior and newly minted Chinese Coastal Assault Fleet.

Between the Dragon and Valkyrie, was the Assault Ship's last hope however, a team of operatives sailed aboard a small, black Zodiac motor boat, three in number; they were a Chinese Ministry of Internal Security Service Agent and CIA affiliate, Huang "Hannah" Shuyi, and two United States Marine Corps MARSOC soldiers, Sergeant Daniel Recker and Staff Sergeant Kimble "Irish" Graves. Their small RHIB, the zodiac, was carrying a high priority package of explosives, enough to rip a mighty big hole through a cruiser's plate armor.

Driving the small motor boat, Recker sailed across the turbulent waves of the Suez determined to reach the enemy warship unnoticed. Many small Chinese boat patrols passed by in the darkness not noticing the three enemy soldiers heading toward their flagship. As he sailed, Recker decided to take a glance back at the metal coffin he had for a while taken to calling home, the burning, metal contraption that was the Valkyrie. A beast of Human ingenuity terribly spent in the name for its nation of origin. It was his center of power, his Fortress.

Fortress. A befitting callsign.

The body of the Amphibious Assault Ship was scarred all over, its air wing littered its deck in ruin, fires burned along the asphalt runway and clumped near the bridge. A candle light in the endless Darkness. Chang's darkness was closing in, determined to put the light out. The Dragon's main gun shelled the structure creating big tears and holes throughout the boxy warship. What an ugly sight.

Recker forced himself to look away from the ominous sight of imminent death, a reminder of what he was risking for his Home; because if he didn't put his life on the line, everything he ever knew would come to an abrupt end, here and now.

Grim silence surrounded Tombstone Squad, the three commandos, as they approached the trimaran ship, the only sounds were that of distant gun shots around them lighting up the heavens, the constant hum of the engine sounding like that of a A-10's main gun, and the continuous splashing of water on the underside of the boat.

120 meters.

80 meters.

50 meters.

30 meters.

Suddenly, the engine spurted and sparked as it smacked against some submerged shrapnel in the shallow harbor of the Suez and silently died down leaving the RHIB boat to drift to the side of Chang's Dragon.

As they pulled up, Hannah approached Recker from the middle of the boat and stepped around the wheel house to meet up with Recker, who suddenly found his ass cold and wet as he fell to the ground of the motor boat's strange demise.

She grabbed Recker's outstretched hand and pulled him up. She took the wheel and guided the vehicle to a halt right alongside the warship's hull.

Hannah, a Chinese woman who served the Chinese Ministry of Internal Security and served as an informant and affiliate to the American CIA and later the American Marine Corps, was a seemingly odd person to be among the long list that wanted Chang dead. She had her reasons however, only weeks ago, her village in West China, the one she spent most of her childhood in, following a visit from the Chinese President, was burned down and the populace killed by a group of Chinese Special Forces loyal to Chang in a failed attempt at assassinating the President. Hannah had taken the injured leader to CIA agent Kovic in Shanghai, to find extraction to the US heartland where the Progressive leader would be safe from a violent military coup. The plan failed and now the Chinese President was in hiding aboard the Valkyrie as she enlisted her services to the US Military in return for her People's future.

Recker and Irish stared up at the Independence-like warship and had the incentive to spit upon the metal frame next to him on his right as the image of the giant warship made him sick the stomach.

The sea spray appeared to be settling as the Dragon also halted below a suspension bridge and continued to fire at the Valkyrie and the Edison in the background who had begun to blindly fire back, but missing most of the shots.

Manning the 50 caliber Gatling gun, Irish, Recker's assigned XO and the most emotional of the group, had continued to mutter curses, Sailor language under his breath, just barely loud enough that Recker could make them out. Recker even swore once or twice that Hannah had flinched at the words, "Fucking Chinks…"

Irish spoke loudly and clearly, quiet enough that the roar of battle around and above muffled his voice to those aboard the Dragon, "We're in their blind spot! Get ready."

While the Type 28 LSDP-1, "River Dragon," may have been powerful, it could outpace the Arliegh Burkes in a one-on-one scenario as seen in the Suez, but it still could not hold up to a gang of American destroyers or one of the more stealthy Zumwalt-class. The details from the rogue Chinese soldiers aboard the Valkyrie had mentioned to Hannah that there was a structural weakness behind this side of the ship where a hydrogen tank was just waiting to be destroyed.

Grabbing a pre-set charge for anti-armor/breaching demolitions, Irish connected the magnetic clamp to the Dragon's body and pressed the primer.

The screen flashed several times, revealing some numbers that calibrated itself to the detonator, the numbers were not visible to Recker's unadjusted eyes. The screen quickly became green.

"Secure." Irish spoke.

Hannah marched over to the middle of the boat, Recker not much farther behind, and opened up the surplus crate set up by the Marine armorer back aboard the Valkyrie and revealed almost a ton of C4 shaping explosives, a wide assortment of hand grenades, breaching charges, and the what not. On top of the explosives were a half-dozen long distance rated grappling hooks.

Recker looked skyward at the suspension bridge, the hastily selected rendezvous area for Tombstone Squad, the structure appeared stable and Recker nodded in satisfaction.

Hannah handed Recker one hand cannon silently and a second to Irish using the African-American marine's nickname, "Irish."

She then prioritized one of them for herself.

Voicing his doubts, Irish was about to speak before Hannah cut him off, "—don't worry, they're pretty secure."

"Yeah, right." Recker made a cutting of the throat motion as a sign to shut up.

"They're made in Sweden." Hannah stated not noticing Recker's and Irish's silent conversation as she tinkered with the Swedish built Grappling Gun.

Recker reasoned half-jokingly, that obviously, all Swedish products were top-of-the-line quality.

"Oh, I fell so much better." Irish huffed sarcastically as the three began to aim their guns toward the bridge's bottom.

Hannah and Recker ignored the sarcasm.

On Hannah's wave of her hand, the three pulled the triggers of the Grappling Guns and the metal rods flew skyward disappearing into the burning, starry night. Three, dull metal rings were heard a second later as the hooks latched securely into the Suez Canal bridge.

Attached to the hooks, the three soldiers were dragged along with the metal rods and forced skyward leaving the solid boat floor behind them.

Now a bird's eye view could be seen as a small distance had been marked out between the sluggishly advancing Valkyrie and the halted Dragon, at least half a kilo away. The Valkyrie was now an evident, blazing inferno coming from the bridge. For a second, Recker thought that Captain Garrison had been killed in the burning wreckage.

"Fortress, this is Tombstone Three, we're in position. Ready to blow shit up. What's your status, over?" Irish spoke into his microphone.

Reassuringly, the voice of Captain Garrison became alive on the Squad Chat, "We're almost done for so send it to Hell!" He had survived and probably had retreated to the hardened mission room below deck along with many of the surviving personnel aboard the Valkyrie. Of the 1000 or so Marines and 100 Shanghai civilians that had been aboard the ship the last few months, only about half were still alive. Luckily, most of the civilians were still alive below deck, but they better hurry or Irish's actions in Shanghai would have been for nothing. Garrison's voice was grave and desperate, the team needed to hurry.

"Hannah, hit the switch!" Irish yelled.

"Red? Something's wrong!" Hannah exclaimed as she fumbled with the C4 detonator making a rapid clicking sound. "There's no connection. Recker…"

She turned to face Recker helplessly before Irish addressed her. "Give it to me!"

She tossed the small and cheap, brown detonator to Irish who also fumbled with the control switch. The clicks continued. "Shit. We got to go back down."

Only one of us needs to go. Recker. Do you have another of those C4 charges?" Hannah asked as she waved her hands wildly in the air frantic with the burning Valkyrie in the background.

Recker whipped out another one of the C4 charges, one among the 6 he still had on his person.

"Good. Give it to me."

Recker was about to say, "Wait. No—."

Irish also protested, "You are not risking your life, Hannah. I'm Irish, remember?" The Lucky One. Give it to me, Recker." He moved his arm to point an outstretched hand for the shaping charge.

"Recker, I risk my life for my country every day. Give me the charge." Hannah countered also outstretching her arm.

The flames behind them grew larger and the smoke was beginning to smell apparent as the Dragon continued to unload into the boxy Assault Ship.

"Your country needs you alive, Hannah. You are not going down, period! Come on, Recker."

In any other situation, Recker would have found this situation ironic since he doubted any one of them would have been willing to die like this. A split second of guilt escaped into the center stage of his mind as he realized he himself had not volunteered to deploy the explosives.

Recker experienced an internal conflict. He was putting the lives of his squad mates and the innocent lives of the people aboard the Valkyrie, friends versus the greater good, and a tough decision. He could put his life on the line plenty of times for his team, but, here something was different, Recker could not find the strength to fall and sacrifice himself.

Without thinking and relying on instinct, Recker tossed the bomb which somehow magically fell into the awaiting arms of Irish.

"When the detonator goes Green, you push that button, Recker!" Irish stated and tossed Recker the detonator and loosened his cable and slide down into the inky black darkness below. A fear of heights was luckily not among Recker's characteristics as he didn't freeze up at the sight of the water below. Even if he knew that hitting the water below would be like hitting concrete from the same height.

"Wait!" Irish tried to speak but found the words caught in his mouth and drowned out by the sound of the cannon below. He couldn't make out his friend in the inky blackness below.

"Irish, dammit!" Hannah screamed toward the man who had disappeared below them.

She pulled out her PDW, a FN P90 submachine gun and started to blindly fire bursts toward the Dragon as if to draw attention to themselves, not the smartest thing when trying to keep a level head and not get themselves seen.

On the radio, Irish spoke from somewhere below, "It's set and ready to go. Come on Recker, press the button!"

"The blast will kill him!" Hannah yelled and stopped firing and shouldering her weapon as she dangled from her hook.

"Wait, give me a second to think…" Recker whispered desperately as he glanced quickly back and forth between the inky, black water and the burning Valkyrie.

"Goddammit, Tombstone. Blow that ship now; now!" Garrison frantically yelled into the Squad Chat, his voice full of worry.

"Dammit, Irish." Hannah whispered to herself. She turned to Recker. "Please don't make us do this." She pleaded.

"Save the Valkyrie, Recker. Hit the switch goddammit!" Irish called into his microphone.

This war had been full of hardships. Somewhere along the journey, Tombstone had found its niche. It had lost many of its number. Dunn drowned in Baku to save the team, "For the wolf to survive, he's got to chew off his own leg."

Kovic was lost out at sea far from home, Tombstone had barely known him, but Recker thought himself a good judge of character, the dead CIA agent had been a good man. Dima, the former Spetsnaz operative that died in the Chinese mountain side had been one Hell of a fighter, a survivor, and yet had been killed not from Cancer or being gunned down by Chinese Special Forces, but a fall, no way for a man like him to go out. This war had already lost too many, here he had the chance to make a difference.

This choice would likely be the most difficult of his life.

Finally Hannah decided to see reason, "It's him or the Valkyrie; we don't have a choice."

For the Greater Good. For Duty. We are United States Marines.

"I know." The last two active Tombstone members on the bridge silently spoke their goodbyes. The Valkyrie was now a great bonfire, burning into the night prideful in the face of certain death.

The few thoughts that ran through Recker's mind as he pressed the detonator switch were squashed as the powerful metal beast below was lit up like a malfunctioning firework stand.

A great fireball leaped up into the air, the sound of steel and aluminum being torn apart screamed into the heavens, and the explosions ran, like a scene from an action film, rushed the fires to the bridge, likely killing the villainous Chinese Admiral in the process.

The lights aboard the Dragon dimmed, the sounds of metal died down and the ship began to lean on its side sagging into the canal. Below voices of Chinese sailors could be heard screaming in agony and yelling fowl as their warship had been destroyed in a shocking display of suicidal talent. Somewhere in the murky depths, Recker hoped that Irish had survived, even if he knew in the back of his mind that no man could have survived that explosion head on.

Recker and Hannah turned to face the surviving Valkyrie, the sound of rotor wings also began to close in as several Marine helicopters began to close on the bridge. Not wanting to be called KIA, the two soldiers began their steep accent toward the bridge platform.

Two of the helicopters, UH-1 Huey transport helicopters, veterans from the Vietnam Era, flew away one heading down into the wreck of the Chinese destroyer, another veered off toward the rest of the fleet still in battle for an unknown task. Once the two survivors had reached the top of the bridge, it was a hassle trying to climb to the top, but they managed with Hannah struggling to hold onto Recker's arm as he attempted to maneuver her onto one of the service handle bars a meter away from them.

The Huey pulled up above them and dropped a rope ladder down to the two, a search light nearly blinded Recker as he climbed into the small aircraft.

Death had come for one of Tombstone and he had got his wish as the rest of the survivors retreated back to the vessel for recovery, the battle now over for the crew of the Valkyrie.

Once aboard, Recker took a large towel from the Marine in the troop bay and wrapped it around Hannah who while did not appear to need it, had been soaked from head to toe in water and was shivering somewhat uncontrollably, a lot less than what Recker was currently suffering. He wrapped his arm around the fellow soldier and silently listened to the rumbling of the rotors of the helicopter and the voice of the marine officer who had just helped them into the vehicle.

"Jackson, take us up and out. Tell Smith to keep looking for survivors. I'm going to contact the Captain, tell him we got our Marines." The unnamed officer spoke.

The helicopter spun toward the Valkyrie and jumped forward flying toward the Assault Ship, the fires now being put out by the survived crew of the once seemingly doomed ship. The recovery effort had begun.

The officer spoke into his microphone as they did a flyby of the Valkyrie's caved in bridge. "Fortress, this is Bloodhound. Tombstone is onboard, we're bringing them back."

Recker and Hannah continued to focus on the wreckage behind them.

"Are all accounted for?" Captain Garrison, callsign Fortress-Actual, spoke into the receiver.

"One of them is MIA, sir. Nothing we can do, we had to pull out immediately." Bloodhound said into the microphone and looked toward the pair of Tombstone survivors and Recker imagined him saying to himself, "Sorry, there was nothing we could do. There is nothing we can do."

"Shit. Understood... Now, get my Marines back home." Garrison stated.

"Sir, we still got Appleseed searching the wreckage for Chinese sailors do you want me to call in more teams?"

"Go ahead, Chief, every able body is either busy with recovery efforts or have been moved to the deployment bay, expect more parties out there searching for wounded in the next 10 mikes. Tell Tombstone to meet me in the Mission Room for debrief in 20. Fortress Out."

"Roger, over and out."

Recker watched on as the memory began to fade as he stared into the inky black water of the Suez and his mind faded to black.

"Recker… Recker, hey Recker, wake up… come on, wake up already!" A voice echoed from around him,

Recker's eyes opened and found himself catching the bright lights of an afternoon sun out the windows of the bedroom. He squinted to keep the light out.

Suddenly, he realized. Apartment? He was in an apartment, his apartment, in Brooklyn.

Recker's head throbbed as he opened his blurry and beady eyes that attempted to adapt to the amount of sunshine entering the bedroom. The ceiling was plain dry wall with an uninteresting ceiling fan.

Instead of the metal coffin bed he was used to, the comfortable foam of his average mattress was better than the military tinder box he had been forced to sleep in and share with 2 other marines from different shifts making the thing smell like mucus 24/7.

It's been 4 months since the incident at the Suez, the war for Tombstone had ended that night. Today was shore leave and recovery, soon he would be shipped out again.

Next to Recker, laying her head innocently on her arms and hands, Hannah curiously looked toward Recker, her brown eyes caringly staring back at him as he moved to get up on his feet.

His sock-clad feet met the floor and he put a palm to his forehead and found beads of sweat. No fever at least.

"Hey, how you feeling? You look pretty bad. Bad dream again?" Hannah was quick to ask out of genuine care.

"Fine, fine…"

Hannah across from Recker was dressed up not in her silver colored combat uniform and green, marine chest rig. Instead she was wearing a simple white T-shirt with a V-neck, dark skinny jeans, track sneakers, and a Northface-brand fleece jacket colored maroon. She looked very much like an attractive, Chinese-American citizen, and a fact that caused controversy in Recker's mind on how she could easily have slipped into America as a sleeper agent for China. He shook his head and the wartime thoughts, he wasn't at war right now, time to relax.

"It's nothing."

"Alright, the teams outside if you need us. I'm going to go call a taxi." Hannah said before exiting the room. Recker's eyes followed her retreating figure as she went.

Once she left, he went over to the set of clothes piled on the arm chair at the edge of the room, a book, the Forever War sat left unattended. At the foot of the chair, a pair of combat boots sat waiting for Recker who quickly pulled them on and slipped on his leather jacket. Recker had been sleeping in an American Army Shirt in foliage green and his boot cut jeans. Recker pulled on his black veteran cap, with a United States Flag at the top. Out the window, the Manhattan skyline rose from the horizon, a beautiful forest of metal towers. The Brooklyn Bridge was also visible.

This was Recker's apartment, home, and base of operations away from the Marines. Before the war, the lot had been shared between Recker and his ex-wife. She left only weeks before the war started due to a final straw among the seemingly infinite amount of arguments that had been a staple of their dying relationship ending with a bitter divorce. Among the arguments, the Marines had been a topic taking center stage when Recker had been told that he was being deployed. This was the reason for his current single status, the War. At the moment he was mostly content however, things were recovering and the war appeared to be drawing to a close.

Recker exited the bedroom and walked into the main room, a main living room with an integrated kitchen with brick walls on almost all sides. Across the room, a second bedroom lay vacant except for Pac, Sergeant Clayton "Pac" Pakowski, had been the fourth and final member of the Tombstone family, a rookie and the team's combat lifesaver, however, he was still a little green to the whole special operations scene. He had been thought dead since Tombstone abandoned him in Singapore due to being taken prisoner by Chinese forces. Even now, four months later, he refused to explain how escaped and got back to the Valkyrie. Pac currently inhabited Recker's second bedroom since his own apartment was all the way down in Miami, Florida.

In the living room watching the news on CNN showing live footage of American and South Korean forces engaging in combat in Hamhŭng, North Korea against Chang's Loyalists and North Korean forces. Currently the battle looked evened out as the uphill battle to take the North Korean capital and nuclear sites continued.

In the kitchen, Hannah was talking on the phone to what Recker assumed was the taxi company. Pac was dressed in his usual beanie, a tourist "I Heart New York" T-shirt, a pair of rodeo jeans, and sneakers. Surprisingly, to Pac's left sat the very lively Irish, not dead and not lost in the Suez.

He was dressed in a leather jacket, a collared dress shirt, boot cut jeans, and a pair of dress shoes that made him look like a business man in business-casual attire for a Friday. For a man who had a near-death experience 4 months ago, he looked quite well.

The night that he had sacrificed himself for the Valkyrie, one of the Marine RHIBs found him floating face up in the water just barely breathing. Among the survivors, almost all of them Chinese sailors, Irish had been quickly moved into the infirmary where the ship's doctor had personally taken to managing his health due to his critical situation and the lack of equipment available for him as the EMP from weeks before in Shanghai had disabled most the systems aboard the Valkyrie's task force in the South China Sea. Recker remembered his broken and torn up body being dragged around on a stretcher looking pale and lifeless as he and Pac urgently followed, Hannah had taken to visiting the Shanghai refugees and guiding Jīn Jiē around to meet the sailors that had been serving on the Dragon who had thought the President to be dead and found themselves shocked to see their leader alive and well. Recker remembered seeing even a few civilians crying at the politician's feet at finding out he was alive.

Irish's status worsened by the day without proper treatment and 48 hours later, Tombstone Squad, minus Hannah had taken an Osprey aircraft to an American air force base in Cairo at an Egyptian Hospital for surgery. According to the doctors, Irish was lucky to be alive. How ironic.

He had suffered from hypothermia from 40 degree Fahrenheit waters, two broken femurs, 4 cracked rib cages, a shredded pancreas, a broken jaw, a bad concussion, and 3 broken fingers. Part of his left ear had also been ripped off by shrapnel. Following his stabilization in Cairo, he was shipped back to the States and was left in an intensive care for three weeks at the New York City Hospital. Due to Irish's injuries, the duty to contact Dunn's wife, Sharon to tell her of her husband's late demise.

The War of 2020, as it was now being called, was still going on so the funeral was quick, impromptu, and almost emotionless. With all the combat, Tombstone didn't have time to mourn for their late commanding officer who died alone and drowning deep in the Black Sea. There was no body to bury, only an empty casket, a MP412 revolver, and a pair of dog tags to remember the man who died for his country, half a worlds away from Home.

Irish's family was even more shocked when they finally got to see him in the hospital. The look of his children and wife were disastrous, the sight of their father wrapped like a mummy and unconscious. Eventually everything recovered, Hannah and the Chinese President arrived in New York City for the emergency United Nations Security Council meeting. From what Recker had heard, the Chinese President had complied well with the United States and NATO's demands and even more interesting began to point fingers at the Russian representative for his nation's lesser-known involvement in West China and the build up near the Slavic States in the last few weeks.

The cleanup from the terrible diplomacy soup would not get any better for a while, but at least the future looked less dim. The Chinese government, at least the parts still functioning and consolidated under the Chinese President, including the majority of the Chinese military, had surrendered and allied themselves against the last villains of the Russian military, Chang's forces, and North Korea. Chang's Loyalists currently were still fighting in North Korea, Japan, West China, and Oceania. There were even reports about Chinese forces fighting in Honolulu, but, the information at the time had been faulty.

The American Fourth Fleet had been deployed to engage the Chinese militants in the Pacific region, but the pacification operations were still slow even into July. America had been badly beaten; the US Third, Fifth, and Seventh Fleets had suffered casualty rates between 50 and 100 percent casualties. The Third Fleet didn't even exist anymore except for the shells of ghost ships laying at the bottom of the ocean floor, the USS Titan had been the fleet command vessel before sinking then.

Within the time of summer, a moment occurred where wartime medals were given out and among the recipients, Tombstone Squad had racked up much more than that of many other squads. The ceremony had been small and straight forward, held on the grounds behind the White House, the President had not been in attendance to personally hand out the medals because of meetings with world leaders due to the War against China and Russia. Recker and Irish both received the Prisoner of War Medal, the Defense Distinguished Service Award, and Recker received a Silver Star while Irish went down in history as a Medal of Honor recipient for distinguished services to the United States when he attempted to sacrifice himself to blow up a Chinese destroyer, kill Admiral Chang Wei, and save the Valkyrie. Pac received the Purple Heart, a Defense Distinguished Service Award, and a Silver Star. Hannah also received a Silver Star, the first Chinese soldier in History, for her service with American forces and her commitment to the Chinese Leader. Pac was also in line for a promotion.

Dunn and Kovic were both posthumously awarded the Purple Heart. For the time Recker knew Kovic, which to be far, wasn't much. He could see the man before his death was tired and burned out. Somewhere in his life, before meeting Tombstone, he must have been a cool guy. He was typical, he had seen too much and lost too much, a spook with PTSD; you don't see that every day.

Looking at the television, Recker could make out the American President Andrew Phillips and Chinese President Jīn Jiē shaking hands on the platform in front of a large crowd of people as the preparations for the Fourth of July celebrations continued on schedule. Due to NATO's involvement in engaging Russian forces and US, Australian, and Canadian forces in the East fighting to secure Japan and South Korea from the Chinese Juggernaut, a series of emergency meetings were being held between the UNSC, the Security Council, due to the clear violations of peace that had occurred in the last few years. Among those in attendance, China and America had been able to mend most of the wounds in their relationship, but Russia was still at large, not attending the meeting and North Korea was struggling to hold on to its foothold in the South. The handshake was symbolic for the willingness between the two nations to move on from the events caused by the unspoken coup de tat by Admiral Chang.

The Peace Summit in New York was to be held on the 7th, three days from this moment.

Life was short and there wasn't much time for people to try to discuss how to move ahead, instead it seemed to be better to live in the moment than to keeping thinking about the past or future. As Irish would fondly state, "No fucking regrets."

Looking up at the kitchen's digital clock, the reading was 17:54 hours, 5:54 PM.

"Hey team; we got two hours to get to Molina's, we need to get moving." Recker called.

Pac and Irish turned to Recker, Pac spoke, "Alright, give us five minutes."

Pac got up and moved toward the refrigerator and pulled out a glass beer bottle and wolfed it down without much of a thought. Once he was done chugging, he slammed the empty bottle down on the kitchen island and grinned wolfishly.

"Ready."

"If you get drunk on me before we get to Molina's, I'm going to let Irish take you to his house."

"His children are crazy!" Pac stated desperately.

"I heard that!" Irish called from across the room.

"I'm fudging sorry!"

"Don't get drunk." Recker stated seriously before looking out the window down toward what looked like Hannah flagging down a taxi.

"Don't worry, I got a high alcohol tolerance."

"Doubt it." Recker stated grinning before looking back to Hannah opening up her phone down below and began to text something.

"Hey let's go, Hannah's waiting."

The three men of Tombstone marched out of the apartment and down two flights of stairs to meet their squad mate.

"Ready?" She asked looking at Irish who still had a slight limp to his left leg.

"We're all fine, though I would worry about Pac, he downed a second beer in the last hour. So far he hasn't tried to jump off a bridge." Recker said with mock seriousness.

"Hey, I have not tried that. You're the one that nearly killed us in Singapore."

"Touché." Recker stated and Hannah shook her head in exasperation before turning to the anonymous cab driver and giving the man directions.

The four fit into the packed five-seat yellow sedan with Irish sitting up front and Hannah being packed between Recker and Pac. The ride began very quiet until the man in the taxi spoke up. The anonymous cab driver, an African-American New Yorker dressed in a beanie and simple jeans and t-shirt appeared attentive and curious as he drove. He seemed like a mentally sound individual. Something that Recker could find respect in.

"So, anyone figure whether the Chinese finally going to give up?"

"…Don't know, the Chinese President was found alive some time ago, things are looking pretty good." Irish stated without revealing much about their background.

"You look like a military man, bro. I'm sure you know something."

"Nope, sorry. We've just been stationed out in the Pacific. Nothing that we saw but Chinese rushing the beaches in the Japanese isles." Irish stated.

Irish knew well the importance of keeping secrets, better to remain silent and anonymous than to take the risk of being silenced by foreign assassins. Plus, the tale would likely be too hard to believe. Most special operations activities tended to be larger-than-life.

The team was quick to arrive at the Molina family establishment, Molina's Hot Pockets. It was a small diner at the edge of Midtown, Manhattan. Not quite low-lively but definitely in the middle of one of the lower-middle class neighborhoods that sparsely dotted the Manhattan Island in the fields of tall skyscrapers. The diner had seen better days likely into the early 80s but the location still held its personality through the decades and the rich, family aroma hanged in the parking lot outside.

The team exited the taxi and Irish paid the tab. Hannah moved forward as the men of Tombstone followed close at her heels. They watched the taxi screech away and move toward the inside of the family diner. Recker closed the door behind him, the sign saying: "Closed for Reservations."

An old folk song played in the background as the team entered the diner where multiple military characters were taking their leave in stride, enjoying the time of American Independence by visiting with other soldiers and drinking into the night. Recker recognized that with Pac's already likely drunk attitude, he needed to get the group out as soon as he could without being a party killer. For now he would let time fly by.

Molina, the Marine Team Leader from West China who's men had fought alongside Tombstone when they had first arrived in "Old Town," was now dressed up in a business casual attire with a fancy overcoat and collared shirt over a pair of jeans that seemed unusual for an Independence Day celebration, but Recker decided to ignore it and shook the man's hand.

Two hours later, they left the loud and crowded diner turned party establishment and walked into the night to find a quieter location to finish the festive mood. Across the street there was a small bar with a lowly neon-green sign that would light up in a pattern spelling the emphasis on the location's name, one that created, as Recker noticed, a smug look upon Irish's face as they approached. Kevin's Irish Pub.

They quickly crossed the street, it was a godsend that they had been in one of the suburban neighborhoods or a simple task as crossing a street would have been impossible in a place like Time Square.

A simple task as crossing the road reminded Recker of a time when he saw a certain evening comedy television host fail at crossing a street in a video game, he forgot the name, probably something like starting with a C.

Anyhow, they J-walked the street across without incident and walked into the pub. At closer inspection, the building looked nothing like an Irish establishment, however, who was Recker kidding, he never seen what a Irish bar looked since he had spent most of his active duty tours stationed in the Middle East and the Pacific.

For a second, Recker remembered the events before the eventful deployment to Baku and the death of his CO. First the PLR invasion of Iraq from Iran, the Russians, North Koreans, and finally Chinese. It seemed 2010 to 2020 had been the time when everyone had finally climbed out of their shells and decided they wanted to attempt to create an end to the controversial and fragile Pax Americana era in World History since the close of the Cold War.

The sky had turned dark and the sounds of cheering blocks away of rows of Americans partying and waiting for midnight could be heard all across NYC and even all across the United States.

They entered the establishment and found themselves a table, the room wasn't noisy like Molina's Hot Pockets or the streets near downtown. Each person ordered a drink from the waiter already sitting them down. Pac and Hannah both ordered alcoholic beverages, both missed by the distracted Recker who ordered a low-alcohol beverage without much thought as he looked toward the noticeable Freedom Tower among the skyward skyline.

To think that had been the sight of one of the worst terrorist attacks the World had seen only 19 years before, and another failed attack that could of turned New York into a smoldering crater at worst in 2014 when a terror group had attempted to smuggle a Russian nuke into the city but was apprehended by an anonymous pair of United States Marine Corps Force Recon, one of the pair had been killed in the event, Recker had been able to get a hold on the mission log before it was confiscated by the CIA, even with the report, most of the information had been inked out so, Recker would likely never know the full story. It could even be said that the failed terror plot was one of the flashpoints that led to the newly dubbed, "War of 2020."

Thinking back on it, Dima mentioned something about surviving a nuclear blast, was it possibly the Russian that had been in Paris for who-knows-what during the nuclear attack? Recker wasn't sure but it made his head hurt, he decided to stop worrying about it. Today was Fourth of July, a time to put the past aside.

Irish had decided to avoid alcohol and picked up on ordering a Dr. Pepper instead, a funny choice since the place was technically named after him while he was in a pub. Outside, the sky had finally got dark as the stars and shadows of light puffy clouds got dark and nonexistent.

Time flew by quickly on the pub's tele, at the White House, an event was occurring to honor the Fourth of July, several world leaders were notably among the attendees, something not of normal occurrence since most of the time, Recker assumed they just sent post cards like distant family members would with writing speaking sarcastic and cliché lines of Happy Holidays and the like. Among the leaders, the American President, Chinese Leader Jīn Jiē, the British Prime Minister, Israeli Prime Minister, South Korean President, and Canadian Prime Ministers, among several others mostly from the European Union. The French President was not here due to a fractured nation and the Russian President as well due to continued hostilities.

President Phillips began his speech, one that involuntarily caused Recker to turn his full attention to the television.

"Today, my fellow Americans, we celebrate our 244th anniversary of our nation's birth and declaration of independence. While our brothers and sisters have spilled their bloods on fronts and fields far from home fighting for our freedom, we celebrate our rights as Americans to live in peace and prosperity. Our brave men and women of our armed forces have given their lives in places that's names will go down in infamy for years to come, our sons and daughters spilled blood in the distant fields of Iran and Iraq, the burning husk of Paris, the waters of the Black Sea, in the bustling cities and vast grasslands of Mainland China, the oil fields of Southern Russia, the Korean Peninsula, Japan, the Pacific Ocean, Hawaii, the deserts and waterways of Egypt, Alaska, the streets of Singapore, the rice patties of Thailand, the Mediterranean, the Himalayas, the Gulf of Oman, the Caspian Border, in the Gobi Desert, and dozens of flashpoints in nations, both friend and foe. We are lucky the fighting was not as great as it could have been where the United States would find foreign forces marching through our towns and cities. Let us be grateful that God has given us this chance to remain intact and to give our humbled thanks to those who marched into the howling dark to never return; and to our allies and friends that got sucked into a war that has cost millions in money and lives. I would like to thank our allies for joining us here today and abroad in our celebrations and mourning for the lost lives on all sides of this conflict. Today is not a day just for appreciation of the American Spirit and our audacity to face the Evil head on and with unparalleled bravery. Today, is a day where we rejoice for the promise of a tomorrow, of a return to everlasting peace, prosperity, and unity around the globe. We party for a better, brighter tomorrow; and on that note, I would ask you all to join me in the view of this beautiful night and our bright display of fireworks."

An explosion erupted behind the president, somewhere on the White House lawn, and above the fireworks erupted in grandeur flashes. A display projected by the zoomed out camera that slowly transitioned to a landscape view of the District of Columbia. Recker noted as he drifted from the images on the television and toward the sky outside the Irish Pub and saw the beginning of New York City's own display of fireworks, the view from below made Recker antsy to return home and view the display from his lot, a river view of Manhattan where he could enjoy a better view in peace.

Turning back to face the group, Recker listened passively to the banter between Irish and Hannah, a scene Pac also was incline to watch.

"He used to love going into the mountains, such peace. Simplicity." Hannah said quietly describing her dead uncle.

"Yeah, I had an uncle." Irish replied. "Uncle J… he taught everything there was to know about the back country…"

"I thought you were a city boy." Hannah stated.

"My uncle; he was from the city. He got up and left the city when he was young… wouldn't come home."

"Where's he now?"

"Not with us…"

"I'm sorry."

"Well, you know, what can you do? Got to keep moving forward, make the most with the time you got." Irish talked quietly.

"We lose many people we love." Hannah whispered as she took a sip of her drink. Recker noticed the fireworks had seemed to have died down even as he made out the flashes outside in the night sky. The fireworks reminded Recker of his near-death experience in Singapore where the Valkyrie had fired mortars on its own forces to stop Chinese forces from deploying their air force. Recker shivered as a slight ringing appeared in his ears.

Bombs falling down on top of Tombstone, asking for an early but messy death. Recker shivered.

"Too many, too soon."

"Sometimes I think it's just better to avoid it all. It be easier you know."

"Ah, you can't say that! Keep losing it, you can't regret it. No regrets! Go ahead, say it. No regrets!"

"No regrets…" Hannah said, Recker echoed the words, rolling it through his throat along his tongue.

"Yeah, that's fucking it. Yeah, that's it. No fucking regrets."

Hannah chuckled, the alcohol seeping in a little bit. "No regrets, no fucking regrets!"

"There you go."

"Hey, it's been so long since we were out there in the field, where do you think they'll send us next?" Pac asked.

"I don't know, probably Hawaii." Recker offered.

"No, how 'bout Korea, we could go kick some North Korean asses!" Irish yelled.

"We'll see." Hannah said.

"Well, whatever happens, I guess, no regrets?" Pac said.

"Yeah, no fucking regrets." Hannah said laughing to herself.

"I'll second that." Recker said holding up his beverage.

"Alright… cheers… to Dunn, Kovic, Dima, and all the others." Irish said.

"No fucking regrets." The four cheered loudly echoing through the room. Their drinks clanged together and they all took a sip. Recker also noted the rare occasion where Pac had cursed. The stress seemed to be peaking there for a second.

Behind the group, at another table, a group of 3 teenagers, likely in high school scowled at the adults weirdly like Recker's face was made of horse shit. One girl and two guys, likely siblings due to all sharing similar hereditary details about their faces. As soon as he made eye contact with the teenage girl, a pale-white 16 year old with brunette hair and black eyes. She and her supposed brothers looked quickly away.

Recker muttered, "Kids… they'll understand one of these days…"

The night was young as the four friends drank to the sounds of distant Freedom and the battle drum of War.

Thinking back on the event, it was a good thing that Irish didn't drink, they were going to get pretty drunk as Recker realized that the waiter had given him a normal beverage with enough alcohol to down even him. Good thing none of them were driving today, it would have been a disaster.

…

"_**People sleep peacefully in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf."**_ – George Orwell, English novelist, journalist, and critic: 1903-1950

**Achievement Unlocked**

"**No Grave of Mine – Save the Valkyrie and Tombstone."**

**Item Unlock(s)**

"**Victory" dog tag**

_This dog tag shows an image of fireworks and an F-35 Stealth Fighter Jet in Gunmetal gray from the Fourth of July Easter Egg on the "Dawnbreaker" Map._

"**Don't go Alone" dog tag**

_This dog tag shows an image similar to the movie promotion image from "Act of Valor." The outlines of soldiers standing in a row as if waiting to assault something as a team are shown in the engraving. Words below the image say: "Don't go alone."_

…


	2. Victorious Martyr

**This is a continuation of my alternate endings. I admit to copying the first part of the first chapter, but it's another story told. Rather Recker's death than a total victory, this seems to be the more popular victory among the fans of the campaign that they wanted over the ones provided, so I just added my own twist upon it, which isn't saying much since they're all identical. Thanks for reading though. If you don't want to read or review, that's up to you, I'm just putting it down because I feel like I have to put down all options. Sorry for the inconvenience. Thanks for reading and reviewing, see you guys around.**

…

_Chapter 2: Victorious Martyr_

_Words: 4378_

_Franchise: Battlefield 4_

…

**[Sgt. Daniel Recker – Tombstone Squad]**

**[United States Marine Corps – MARSOC]**

**[March 7****th****, 2020]**

**[Suez Canal, Alexandria, Arab Republic of Egypt]**

**[23:04 – Military Standard]**

…

In the waters cutting through Alexandria, Egypt, the clash of titans raged on.

For centuries, nations had built up their navies, their warships in attempts to gain control the untamable sea.

For years these behemoths were honored in tales of bloodshed and glory; their names etched deep into our memories. The Iowa. Missouri. Monitor. Yamato. Enterprise. Constitution. Arizona. Bismarck. Hood. The names of these ships have long defined the nations and the men and women that sailed them.

However, in the 21st century, the battle no longer held the story about two Giants fighting for glory on the High Seas, but a more brutal and grit-set tale around the reality of Warfare itself: Survival.

An American Marine Corps Wasp-class Amphibious Assault Ship, one of the largest warships in the American Navy measuring at 253.4 meters in length with a tonnage of 40,500 tons. The Valkyrie, armed to the teeth with the United States' best wartime technologies of VLS missile systems, anti-ship missiles, three Phalanx CIWS, a plethora of heavy mechanized cannons, and over 60 aircraft including F-35 Stealth Fighters, FA-18 Attack Jets, MV-22 Osprey VTOL dropships, CH-46 Sea Knight Helicopters, CH-53 Sea Stallion Helicopters, and several other potent aircraft.

However, after weeks of extensive warfare wasting its weapons and aircraft on waging a losing battle against the Chinese War Machine, its barrels and hangars were all but spent and long had grown worn under constant combat. Its runways damaged and cluttered with burning wreckage, the littering of bodies of friends and foes filled the hallways. The warship was a ghost town and almost dead, this was the last voyage of the mighty Valkyrie as ahead of the miniature aircraft carrier, the Chinese Navy had brought its best.

Ahead, with angular and smooth metallic curves and geometric shapes. The Chinese Type 028 Littoral Surface Destroyer Project, a recently revealed secret of the PLAN's new "Blue Water" naval capabilities. A trimaran hull, much like the US Navy's Independence-class Littoral Combat Ships, the large destroyer, had a tonnage of about 9,000 tons and a suspected 171 meters long, being lighter and longer than many of its competition. Its weapon systems and most of its specs were either heavily classified or simply unknown to the American Intelligence Society due to China's recent closing of its borders. This unit was simply referred to as "Hé Lóng," or a butchered translation, "River Dragon."

Notably, the grandeur He Long was a near replica of the United States Independence-class except much longer and heavier and relying on standard Gas Turbines rather than the smaller originals' Jet Ski systems. Speeding for the Valkyrie, the fact that this behemoth, commandeered by once Chinese Admiral Chang, now a self-imposed military dictator, was preparing for the final destruction of America's World Dominance and any possibility of a Progressive China. On board the Valkyrie, unknown to the rest of the world, the supposedly dead Chinese President, Jīn Jiē, was very much alive, injured, but stable. Chang could not allow that. Even if it meant that killing his own soldiers on board and lying to the World, he would do it. So here his Navy was deployed to Egypt and the heart of the American Giant and successfully driving the United States from the important trade route. The Valkyrie's last two Naval Arliegh Burke destroyer escorts, the USS Thomas Edison and USS Atlas, had run aground and had its propellers shredded by a torpedo respectively, the aircraft carrier was alone and a sitting duck for the Dragon's forward cannon.

Already, the great Valkyrie shook and screamed like a tormented Lion as its last moments became imminent, the realization that the end was finally near and its crew of brave Marines would gladly go down with it, fighting to the very end.

Behind the Dragon, a battle could be seen raging, as the technologically advanced American Mediterranean Fleet combated against the numerically superior and newly minted Chinese Coastal Assault Fleet.

Between the Dragon and Valkyrie, was the Assault Ship's last hope however, a team of operatives sailed aboard a small, black Zodiac motor boat, three in number; they were a Chinese Ministry of Internal Security Service Agent and CIA affiliate, Huang "Hannah" Shuyi, and two United States Marine Corps MARSOC soldiers, Sergeant Daniel Recker and Staff Sergeant Kimble "Irish" Graves. Their small RHIB, the zodiac, was carrying a high priority package of explosives, enough to rip a mighty big hole through a cruiser's plate armor.

Driving the small motor boat, Recker sailed across the turbulent waves of the Suez determined to reach the enemy warship unnoticed. Many small Chinese boat patrols passed by in the darkness not noticing the three enemy soldiers heading toward their flagship. As he sailed, Recker decided to take a glance back at the metal coffin he had for a while taken to calling home, the burning, metal contraption that was the Valkyrie. A beast of Human ingenuity terribly spent in the name for its nation of origin. It was his center of power, his Fortress.

Fortress. A befitting callsign.

The body of the Amphibious Assault Ship was scarred all over, its air wing littered its deck in ruin, fires burned along the asphalt runway and clumped near the bridge. A candle light in the endless Darkness. Chang's darkness was closing in, determined to put the light out. The Dragon's main gun shelled the structure creating big tears and holes throughout the boxy warship. What an ugly sight.

Recker forced himself to look away from the ominous sight of imminent death, a reminder of what he was risking for his Home; because if he didn't put his life on the line, everything he ever knew would come to an abrupt end, here and now.

Grim silence surrounded Tombstone Squad, the three commandos, as they approached the trimaran ship, the only sounds were that of distant gun shots around them lighting up the heavens, the constant hum of the engine sounding like that of a A-10's main gun, and the continuous splashing of water on the underside of the boat.

120 meters.

80 meters.

50 meters.

30 meters.

Suddenly, the engine spurted and sparked as it smacked against some submerged shrapnel in the shallow harbor of the Suez and silently died down leaving the RHIB boat to drift to the side of Chang's Dragon.

As they pulled up, Hannah approached Recker from the middle of the boat and stepped around the wheel house to meet up with Recker, who suddenly found his ass cold and wet as he fell to the ground of the motor boat's strange demise.

She grabbed Recker's outstretched hand and pulled him up. She took the wheel and guided the vehicle to a halt right alongside the warship's hull.

Hannah, a Chinese woman who served the Chinese Ministry of Internal Security and served as an informant and affiliate to the American CIA and later the American Marine Corps, was a seemingly odd person to be among the long list that wanted Chang dead. She had her reasons however, only weeks ago, her village in West China, the one she spent most of her childhood in, following a visit from the Chinese President, was burned down and the populace killed by a group of Chinese Special Forces loyal to Chang in a failed attempt at assassinating the President. Hannah had taken the injured leader to CIA agent Kovic in Shanghai, to find extraction to the US heartland where the Progressive leader would be safe from a violent military coup. The plan failed and now the Chinese President was in hiding aboard the Valkyrie as she enlisted her services to the US Military in return for her People's future.

Recker and Irish stared up at the Independence-like warship and had the incentive to spit upon the metal frame next to him on his right as the image of the giant warship made him sick the stomach.

The sea spray appeared to be settling as the Dragon also halted below a suspension bridge and continued to fire at the Valkyrie and the Edison in the background who had begun to blindly fire back, but missing most of the shots.

Manning the 50 caliber Gatling gun, Irish, Recker's assigned XO and the most emotional of the group, had continued to mutter curses, Sailor language under his breath, just barely loud enough that Recker could make them out. Recker even swore once or twice that Hannah had flinched at the words, "Fucking Chinks…"

Irish spoke loudly and clearly, quiet enough that the roar of battle around and above muffled his voice to those aboard the Dragon, "We're in their blind spot! Get ready."

While the Type 28 LSDP-1, "River Dragon," may have been powerful, it could outpace the Arliegh Burkes in a one-on-one scenario as seen in the Suez, but it still could not hold up to a gang of American destroyers or one of the more stealthy Zumwalt-class. The details from the rogue Chinese soldiers aboard the Valkyrie had mentioned to Hannah that there was a structural weakness behind this side of the ship where a hydrogen tank was just waiting to be destroyed.

Grabbing a pre-set charge for anti-armor/breaching demolitions, Irish connected the magnetic clamp to the Dragon's body and pressed the primer.

The screen flashed several times, revealing some numbers that calibrated itself to the detonator, the numbers were not visible to Recker's unadjusted eyes. The screen quickly became green.

"Secure." Irish spoke.

Hannah marched over to the middle of the boat, Recker not much farther behind, and opened up the surplus crate set up by the Marine armorer back aboard the Valkyrie and revealed almost a ton of C4 shaping explosives, a wide assortment of hand grenades, breaching charges, and the what not. On top of the explosives were a half-dozen long distance rated grappling hooks.

Recker looked skyward at the suspension bridge, the hastily selected rendezvous area for Tombstone Squad, the structure appeared stable and Recker nodded in satisfaction.

Hannah handed Recker one hand cannon silently and a second to Irish using the African-American marine's nickname, "Irish."

She then prioritized one of them for herself.

Voicing his doubts, Irish was about to speak before Hannah cut him off, "—don't worry, they're pretty secure."

"Yeah, right." Recker made a cutting of the throat motion as a sign to shut up.

"They're made in Sweden." Hannah stated not noticing Recker's and Irish's silent conversation as she tinkered with the Swedish built Grappling Gun.

Recker reasoned half-jokingly, that obviously, all Swedish products were top-of-the-line quality.

"Oh, I fell so much better." Irish huffed sarcastically as the three began to aim their guns toward the bridge's bottom.

Hannah and Recker ignored the sarcasm.

On Hannah's wave of her hand, the three pulled the triggers of the Grappling Guns and the metal rods flew skyward disappearing into the burning, starry night. Three, dull metal rings were heard a second later as the hooks latched securely into the Suez Canal bridge.

Attached to the hooks, the three soldiers were dragged along with the metal rods and forced skyward leaving the solid boat floor behind them.

Now a bird's eye view could be seen as a small distance had been marked out between the sluggishly advancing Valkyrie and the halted Dragon, at least half a kilo away. The Valkyrie was now an evident, blazing inferno coming from the bridge. For a second, Recker thought that Captain Garrison had been killed in the burning wreckage.

"Fortress, this is Tombstone Three, we're in position. Ready to blow shit up. What's your status, over?" Irish spoke into his microphone.

Reassuringly, the voice of Captain Garrison became alive on the Squad Chat, "We're almost done for so send it to Hell!" He had survived and probably had retreated to the hardened mission room below deck along with many of the surviving personnel aboard the Valkyrie. Of the 1000 or so Marines and 100 Shanghai civilians that had been aboard the ship the last few months, only about half were still alive. Luckily, most of the civilians were still alive below deck, but they better hurry or Irish's actions in Shanghai would have been for nothing. Garrison's voice was grave and desperate, the team needed to hurry.

"Hannah, hit the switch!" Irish yelled.

"Red? Something's wrong!" Hannah exclaimed as she fumbled with the C4 detonator making a rapid clicking sound. "There's no connection. Recker…"

She turned to face Recker helplessly before Irish addressed her. "Give it to me!"

She tossed the small and cheap, brown detonator to Irish who also fumbled with the control switch. The clicks continued. "Shit. We got to go back down."

Only one of us needs to go. Recker. Do you have another of those C4 charges?" Hannah asked as she waved her hands wildly in the air frantic with the burning Valkyrie in the background.

Recker whipped out another one of the C4 charges, one among the 6 he still had on his person.

"Good. Give it to me."

Recker was about to say, "Wait. No—."

Irish also protested, "You are not risking your life, Hannah. I'm Irish, remember?" The Lucky One. Give it to me, Recker." He moved his arm to point an outstretched hand for the shaping charge.

"Recker, I risk my life for my country every day. Give me the charge." Hannah countered also outstretching her arm.

The flames behind them grew larger and the smoke was beginning to smell apparent as the Dragon continued to unload into the boxy Assault Ship.

"Your country needs you alive, Hannah. You are not going down, period! Come on, Recker."

In any other situation, Recker would have found this situation ironic since he doubted any one of them would have been willing to die like this. A split second of guilt escaped into the center stage of his mind as he realized he himself had not volunteered to deploy the explosives.

Recker experienced an internal conflict. He was putting the lives of his squad mates and the innocent lives of the people aboard the Valkyrie, friends versus the greater good, and a tough decision. He could put his life on the line plenty of times for his team, but, here something was different, Recker could not find the strength to fall and sacrifice himself.

"Guys, guys. Stop…" The Tombstone Squad Leader spoke with distain, the next words came out of his mouth like venom. "For the Greater Good, we are soldiers, we do what we have to never regretting the choices the moment we make them. I'm proud to call each of you my squad mate and friend. Hannah, I can't make you take this mission for us, you're too valuable and China needs you for its future. Irish, I know me and you don't always see eye to eye, we both know you're not good with orders. If you had been, Garrison and Dunn would have made you Squad Leader, not me. You've got a good head on your shoulders, and a good heart. You've been able to make decisions that I would have never thought of due to protocol. Don't waste your life; you got a family, I don't. They need you and please, take care of Pac, he needs you there for him and you're all that he'll have left."

Recker pulled off his dog tags from his neck and handed them quickly to Hannah who was too shocked to protest and simply accepted them, really meaning for the C4 explosive.

"Dunn once said, "For the wolf to survive, he's got to chew off his own leg." The truth is the original quote is, "A wolf caught in a trap will chew off its own leg to survive." While it's not the same it shares the same point, there can't be victory without sacrifice, and I can't make that decision for anyone of you, so the decision then falls to me. I don't regret this, I believe you'll make the right decision, Irish, send me out with a Bang." Tombstone's leader spoke with dim bravery showing only determined resolve, never looking back.

"Don't do this, Reck. We need you!" Irish yelled as Recker shoved the timer into the hands of Irish, the man fumbling with it to hold on.

Recker secured his C4 to himself and made sure it would stay on properly, no matter what. He made sure that Irish had the timer ready. Hannah had begun to cry, Recker ignored it.

He took his hook and let go and into the sparkly blackness below, he fell. Along the way for the first few seconds his left glove was shredded by the hanging wire leaving a gash in his left hand that began to bleed freely. The pain was simply ignored.

Down he went. Seconds felt like hours. He felt the breeze on his face, the wind in his ears, and yet he remained unfazed. His Paratroop School training came to mind as he came closer to the water.

The long shadow cast by the Chinese destroyer, even in total darkness engulfed the Marine Sergeant.

With a splat, his body melted into the water. His bones and skin lit ablaze as he recognized the figurative impact of body against concrete.

A venomous red entered Recker's vision, his blood. He couldn't move his arms or legs as he began to sink. Recker couldn't hear the desperate screams of his accomplices above, his radio fried by the impact.

The lone soldier let the freezing pain and freezing water become but a numbing stillness as he forced himself to move. His last bought of energy as he swam and collected himself onto the RHIB boat, a black mat of death bordered by a rubber valley revealing a canyon that only saw upon the stars above.

Recker made out the constellation of Orion, the great starry Hunter of old folktales. Left to hunt game in the stars for eternity. If there was a heaven, Recker didn't mind if he got to see a similar place. He was a soldier and an avid fan of hunting game; this wasn't the point to wonder on his death bed, he had work to do.

He turned to face the burning hull of the Valkyrie, the great Titan was burning bright like Fourth of July and her screams were all but tear-jerking, her screams were of urgency to make a Final Stand. Fight, fight, fight.

Recker clambered up and made his way to the explosive transmitter that had failed to react. His wounds were devious and nearly fatal, his ribs were broken and he felt like a vacuum bag was in his chest cavity, a collapsed lung. He was running out of breath.

Recker was quickly losing blood from his gut and his vision was getting blurry. He quickly set the reboot sequence on the timer. Two seconds of eternity passed and the switch beeped with a green, affirmative.

Recker realized he forgot how to tell Irish when to set off the charges. The blood loss began to take its toll, he collapsed to the ground, his eyes faced skyward.

Recker was without hand flares, his radio broken by the water and pressure, his pistol and rifle were all he had left…

His pistol. Dunn's pistol. The MP412, he had carried all the way through this conflict from Baku to China, to Singapore, to Suez. This was the final moment, his Final Stand.

Now that Recker thought about it, this situation reminded himself of Dunn's final seconds of life. Alone, desperate, grim. Recker wasn't much for selflessness, he had never had the incentive to be nice to anyone beyond the social norm. Courteous at the most never going to the extra mile to make another's day. Recker grew up meeting adequacy only going beyond for himself. He got through school with adequate grades and scores, he was an only child–he had no siblings to play nice with and his parents were always there to make his day when they could. He was no spoiled child, just very much self-focused with an ingrained belief of self-preservation. Be it for stupid reasons such as a toy or in a friendly competition like back on his high school soccer team, or in life-or-death situation, he always put his life first over that of others.

Recker wasn't sure when he had changed, but he assumed it was around the time he got through Basic training, when the boy became a man. Recker, Daniel had served under the command of Dunn for the four years before the commander's untimely death and never had he thought his old CO had rubbed off of him. Recker remembered Dunn well, a charismatic man, easy to get along with, never much to anger. He favored Irish because of their similar beliefs in helping others.

Dunn, however, was also a man of law, he followed the military standard to the letter be it contradicting his personal views and sense of right, he didn't question orders. He got the job done, no matter the means. Recker was nothing like the man and Daniel knew the two had their bouts when off-duty, usually both being hyped up on alcohol. There had at least been two bar fights between the two soldiers; the first was what started their friendship. However, Recker believed in completing the mission at any cost, even life. In this situation, the tactician in Daniel realized the obvious choice. Irish had a family to return too, Recker had none. Hannah was needed back in China, and Recker knew he could not ask either of them to make the ultimate sacrifice. This was his job, his mission to see it through. His life for the Valkyrie and the future. In a way Recker stayed true to himself, he was choosing to follow and complete his mission at any cost. He would gladly die for his country, as a martyr, as a guardian even if only briefly in his final moments. He was a patriot, he would gladly die for his nation.

Exactly how Dunn died, for his nation, thousands of miles away from home. Without a body to bury. Sometimes these decisions have to be made for the greater good, now Recker finally understand what Dunn had meant when he drowned in Baku.

Recker pulled out his pistol and aimed up toward the bridge, purposely away from his teammates but close enough that they'll hear the impact of the rounds and see his shots in the dark below.

Six distinct, subsequent explosions echoed from the small firearm's barrel. The gun shots, the recoil, Recker ignored it all and wasted his cartridge. Nearby, Chinese sailors likely heard the shots and would soon be drawn to Recker's location. The noise would give the Valkyrie a few more needed seconds to survive, enough for the bombs to go off.

It appeared that Irish got the message. The transmitter next to him lit with a danger yellow and everything suddenly went bright with light, then it was hot. So very hot, and then nothing. Everything was white. The explosion occurred and Recker's body was ripped apart on explosion. Chang's warship shook and burst into flames.

Recker was gone. Above, the two survivors watched in horror.

"He's really gone…" Hannah said with a monotone voice nearly at tears just audible enough to be heard by Irish.

"Yeah, just like our old team leader, like Dunn." Irish replied staring down into the depths with a grim frown.

The two began the difficult climb onto the bridge as Huey Helicopters approached the scene of carnage originating from the Valkyrie.

Once the two survivors had reached the top of the bridge, it was a hassle trying to climb to the top, but they managed with Hannah struggling to hold onto Irish's arm as he attempted to maneuver her onto one of the service handle bars a meter away from them.

One of the Hueys pulled up above them and dropped a rope ladder down to the two, a search light nearly blinded them as they climbed into the small aircraft.

Death had come for one of Tombstone and he had got his wish as the rest of the survivors retreated back to the vessel for recovery, the battle now over for the crew of the Valkyrie.

"Jackson, take us up and out. Tell Smith to keep looking for survivors. I'm going to contact the Captain, tell him we got our Marines." The unnamed officer spoke.

The helicopter spun toward the Valkyrie and jumped forward flying toward the Assault Ship, the fires now being put out by the survived crew of the once seemingly doomed ship. The recovery effort had begun.

The officer spoke into his microphone as they did a flyby of the Valkyrie's caved in bridge. "Fortress, this is Bloodhound. Tombstone is onboard, we're bringing them back."

Irish and Hannah continued to focus on the wreckage behind them.

"Are all accounted for?" Captain Garrison, callsign Fortress-Actual, spoke into the receiver.

"One of them is MIA, sir. Nothing we can do, we had to pull out immediately." Bloodhound said into the microphone and looked toward the pair of Tombstone survivors and Irish imagined him saying to himself, "Sorry, there was nothing we could do. There is nothing we can do."

"Shit. Understood... Now, get my Marines back home." Garrison stated.

"Holy Damn, Recker, you just had to get yourself blown up." Irish muttered. "Just had to be a damn martyr for your country."

"He's gone, he's not coming back." Hannah said in a appearing, sickly moan as she held back the tears, an effort that she was barely winning.

"I know."

He's not coming back.

…

"_**Death comes to us all; we can only choose how to face it when it comes."**_– Robert Jordan, author of The Dragon Reborn

**Achievement Unlocked**

"**Victorious Martyr – Your Death shall not be in Vain."**

**Item Unlock(s)**

**Recker's dog tag:**

_RECKER_

_DANIEL AB POS_

_488 23 2009_

_USMC R M_

_NO PREFERENCE_

**SCAR H: **

_FNH USA_

_7.62 MM Assault Rifle_

_Mk. 17 Mod 0_

**MP412:**

_IZHMECH_

_.357 Magnum Revolver_

_Model 412_

…


End file.
